


take one for the team [Zarry]

by kaleidoscopecait



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, M/M, harrystyles, zaynmalik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidoscopecait/pseuds/kaleidoscopecait





	take one for the team [Zarry]

His emerald eyes are glossy, laughter fizzy.

"Thought you didn't drink," I joke and he pushes me playfully.

"Are you coming to my game Friday?"

My eyes roll to the back of my head. "Yes Harry, you're my best fucking mate! Have I ever missed you play?"

I slap his back cheerily and he grins, dimples popping, hair messy as it spills over his left eye.

"Are you going to give me pointers or not? If I'm a sloppy kisser he won't want to-"

"Okay, okay. Just relax, yeah?"

I chuckle and pass him the bottle, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

He takes a large swig, tongue trailing over his bottom lip.

"For starters, do that. That was fucking hot."

"You're practically an expert."

I scoff, head hitting the pillow.

"Sex doesn't mean shit unless you're sober and I dunno...I've never felt a deep connection with anyone, I keep waiting for that spark."

"Not even Talia?"

My shoulders shrug and he climbs into bed beside me.

We're best friends. This is perfectly normal. Of course we're way past juvenile sleepovers and playing video games until our thumbs are sore and blistered.

We used to talk for hours, him about how his dad is a drunk and pressured him into football and me about my nagging little sisters who I secretly love to death.

Sometimes he'd try to hold back tears but he let them out and I hugged him until the hurt went away.

When we were still young and the world hadn't taught us that crying is a sign of weakness, that guys should just bottle it up.

Masculinity has been turned upside down, it's no wonder more boys kill themselves than girls.

Sensitivity is shunned. As soon as you hit puberty you're taught to be less affectionate around boys, you're supposed to hoard magazines of naked women under your bed and drink beers with the lads, shouting at the top of your lungs when your team scores a goal.

Harry was fifteen when he told me he was gay. I remember the way his voice quivered and the sea of tears and I don't know if he was expecting me to throw away everything we had like any other arsehole would but I told him it was okay and he spent the night on my couch, afraid to face his dad.

The news spread quickly like adding fuel to a fire. His teammates left fake dildos in the locker room and he showed up to my place hysterial.

He nearly got kicked off the team but you can't just get rid of your star midfielder.

It's his body, his sexuality. It's so damn unfair.

It was so easy for me to become best friends with Harry. I remember meeting him in primary school. He was all curls and chubby cheeks. I was lanky and awkward compared to my peers but he shared a packet of crisps with me and we kicked around a soccer ball on the playground until eventually he knew all my favorite comics and I laughed at all his awful punch lines.

We spent countless hours playing with the lads in sixth form. Harry was always the most talented. Him and Lou.

Wild hair whipping in the wind, drenched in sweat. He's extremely fit now. The taunting and teasing about being fat transformed into girls falling at his feet.

But Harry isn't one to boast his good looks or brag about his athletic abilities. He's too reserved, too humble, too grounded.

He makes everyone feel special. Harry is friends with everyone and if you hate him it's simply because you aren't him.

He's bright laughter and sunshine and smells like honey and water lillies.

I'm so lost in my thoughts I don't realize he's curled up beside me, soft snores falling from his lips.

...

The crowd roars and I'm cheering until my throat is raw, jumping to my feet and climbing down the bleachers.

Nobody cares if you're gay when you win the championship game.

He deserves all the glory but his teammates don't hoist him up or congratulate him. It's just sneers and snarls and stares cold enough to make me shiver.

"Harry," I call over the noise of the crowd, fighting my way through sweaty, huddled bodies.

I make it onto the field and he spots me, gives his ear a little tug. A signal to wait under the bleachers for him to get out of the locker room.

He's scared of what people would think, seeing him with another guy on the field.

I shove my hands in my pockets and whistle as I pace beneath the stands. It clears out and there's still no sign of Harry. It doesn't usually take him so long to shower.

Screw it.

When I bust into the locker room it's controlled chaos to say the least.

The shouts stop as Harry's eyes flick over to me.

"What is he doing here," one of them seethes. "Is he your boyfriend?"

He spits venomously, fists curling up in rage. The vein is popping out of his neck and I nearly slam him against the wall but he pleads with those wide green eyes.

Please don't Zayn.

"He won you the game. This is unbelievable."

"He's a fucking queer," he snarls.

That's when someone yanks down the towel wrapped around Harry's waist and laughter erupts. Hooting and hollering and cheers, fists punping.

His face grows pale, cheeks crimson and someone takes a swing at him. He stumbles back and I've had enough, my fist flying, connecting with the bastard's jaw.

"That's my best friend you're messing with," I pin him against the wall.

Nobody dares to peel me away. It suddenly grows quietly.

Someone clears their throat and I ease my grip, turning to face a very dissatisfied coach, arms folded over his chest, deep frown on his face.

"You don't have permission to be in here."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You'd let them beat the shit out of him if I wasn't here, you-"

"Gays shouldn't be on the team."

Harry has the towel clutched around him again, body trembling, eyes fixed on the floor.

"I'm straight you idiot. I don't give a shit about that. He's a normal person. He has fucking feelings. Treat him equally."

"I'm asking you to leave."

He tugs on a shirt and I hold the towel up for him so he can get dressed. He won't look me in the eyes. I can tell he's about to lose it but he doesn't want everyone to see him break.

"I hope you get suspended Malik."

"I hope you go straight to hell."

...

"I'm never showing my face at that school again," he weeps softly and I tuck him into my arms, ruffling his damp hair.

"It's okay to cry babe," I say gently, rubbing his back.

He hiccups and it pains me so I have to do something to make him feel better.

"Come on, my mum got you cake."

That makes him smile a little and he sniffles, wiping away his tears.

"Harry," Safaa exclaims, throwing her arms around him. "Zayn says you're a star! Did you get a big trophy?"

I laugh and hoist her up onto my shoulders. She squeals and Harry smiles fondly at us before thanking Waliyha for cutting him a large slice of cake.

It says soccer superstar in pink icing and he smiles happily, licking the icing off his fork.

"Harry," my mother walks in and I carefully set down my sister. "What happened to your cheek dear?"

I give her a look and she mouths sorry.

"Just a little too rough with the guys," he lies.

My heart breaks for him. The buzz of my phone startles me and I check it, seeing a new message from Talia.

miss you, were supposed to come over after game

Really I should feel bad but it completely slipped my mind.

sorry

I type back quickly.

i'll make it up to you baby

I'm anxious as I await her response but she leaves me on read. I heave out a sigh and tuck it into my back pocket.

Harry is more important anyway.

"Come on girls," my mum smiles. "We're going to the store."

They groan but wave goodbye to Harry. Safaa loves Harry so he bends down to his her cheek and she turns to jello.

"Bye boys," she calls and closes the door behind her.

He trots off down the hall and flops onto my bed, silent tears streaking down his cheeks.

"Your family is so nice," his voice cracks and so do I.

"You're my family too," I nudge him softly and he giggles, covering his face with his hands. "How'd things go with Nick? Does he like you?"

He's oddly silent and I don't want to push it.

"It was okay," he whispers.

"Did you fuck?"

"Zayn!" He swats at my shoulder, laughing giddily.

He bites back an irresistible grin. I set my phone on my nightstand and he moves closer, putting his head on my chest.

"I-is this okay?"

"It's fine," my breath hitches, heart stuttering in my chest.

He closes his eyes and my fingers card through his tangled curls. He hums quietly and it strikes me so damn hard I wonder why it took me nineteen years to finally connect the pieces.

"Harry," I murmur.

He looks at me expectantly and I caress his cheek, hand shaking terribly.

"Zayn what are you-"

I dip down to kiss him, cupping his face in my hands. He gasps, lips parting and my tongue slips into his mouth, the kiss deepening.

It all makes sense now, why things didn't go over with Nick.

He sighs as I pull away and I brush some hair out of his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was obvious Zayn! I didn't want to ruin your happiness. You have Talia...no matter how hard I tried to push away thoughts of us I just never could. It hurts seeing you with her. It does," his voice cracks.

"But I don't love her. I love you Harry Styles. I love the boy who drive two hundred miles to sign my cast when I was in the hospital, the boy who made me late for school when you didn't have a car because you take forever to pick out an outfit and you always begged me to stop at Starbucks. I love every part of you, even your stupid jokes. I love the way you make me feel."

"You're all I've ever wanted."

I wrap him up in my arms, body warm, heart full.

"What are you going to tell her Zayn?"

"Dunno," I admit. "I guess I'm taking one for the team."


End file.
